


Sleepless in Seoul

by beeswaxing



Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ
Genre: M/M, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:10:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yunho has his trusty phone book, but Changmin only has his hyung.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in Seoul

“I can’t sleep.”

Yunho groans, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes as he struggles to process what his ear is taking in.

“What?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Yunho pulls the phone from his ear, squinting in the very bright light of the screen in the pitch black room, eyes smarting and watering from the glare as he struggles to make out the little numerals in the top right hand corner.

He is so shocked when his eyes finally register the digits that he drops the phone straight onto his face.

“Motherfu—“

“Hyung?”

Yunho bites his fist to keep from howling like a mad dog as his teeth digs into his knuckles, trying to transfer the pain radiating from his cheekbone. It’s no wonder his auditory processing skills are lacking. Who would’ve thought a stupid phone could hurt so much? If he has a bruise on his cheek in the morning, there will be hell to pay from the makeup noona. 

Speaking of morning.

He fumbles with his phone, holding it against his ear.

“Hello.”

“Hello?” 

The reply is soft, somewhat far away.

Yunho’s brow creases in confusion as he presses his phone harder against his ear. Has he suddenly gone deaf?

“Hello? Hello?”

“Hello!”

The voice is muffled and rather far away. What the hell?

It takes Yunho several very long seconds before he realizes his phone is upside down.

He drops his phone twice before he finally manages to get it going the way it should, and his hello is highly aggravated by the time he gets it right.

“Hello!”

“Owwww,” Changmin yelps, holding the phone away from his ear before gingerly bringing it closer. “What the hell, hyung? You’re the deaf one not me!”

“I wasn’t deaf, the phone was upside down.”

Changmin doesn’t even bother asking. This is Yunho, and nothing surprises him anymore with the man when it comes to technology. This is a man who stared at a game of Temple Run in confusion, only to realize he’d been holding the iPad upside down. A man who downloaded the iPhone version of an app onto his iPad and wondered why the resolution was so ridiculously small on his large screen.

Just Yunho really.

“I can’t sleep.”

“And I was asleep. What the heck, Minnie? It’s two thirty in the morning and we have to be at the studio at seven. Seven! And I also now probably have a bruise and Rui is going to have a fit when she sees me.”

“Bruise? What bruise?” Changmin’s voice is sharp, his back straightening as he presses his phone to his ear. “Who bruised you? What happened?”

“You bruised me,” Yunho grumbles, warmed by the concern he can hear in the younger man’s voice. “I dropped my phone on my face trying to check the time.”

There is a pause, before Changmin starts chuckling. “Only you, hyung. Only you.”

“It wouldn’t be _only me_ if you hadn’t woken me. What do you want?” Yunho’s tone is belligerent but it’s all for show.

“I can’t sleep.”

Yunho stretches one arm over his head, arching his body, back off the bed as he yawns loudly. “I heard you the first time. And the second, and maybe even the third. This is the fourth time I think.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Yunho lands back on the bed with a soft thump, eyes getting used to the darkness and the slightly dim light from the phone pressed against his ear. 

“I don’t have sleeping pills and you drank the last of my alcohol the last time you were here so I don’t know, Changdol-ah. What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re the leader.”

“And?”

“You have all the answers.”

Yunho starts laughing then, his chuckles echoing around his large bedroom. “Are you sure you’re not confusing us? I know people joke about _twinshinki_ but if even you are starting to get confused then there’s no hope for anyone.”

“Stop joking, I’m serious.”

“As am I, Changdol-ah,” Yunho’s affectionate smile can be heard loud and clear in his voice. “You always have all the answers. I’m just your puppet.” He turns over, laying on his phone as he closes his eyes and smiles into the darkness. Changmin’s voice is soothing for whatever reason, especially when he’s feeling mellow like this instead of shrill and naggy like he normally is. Can he bottle this Changmin and keep him forever?

“Then why aren’t you here?”

Yunho’s eyes pop open, the sudden pang in his chest at the quiet words makes him wish instantly for a shrill and naggy Changmin. He’d take that over quiet and sad Changmin any day.

“You know why,” he replies softly, unable to hide the regret in his voice.

“You could’ve said something.”

“And raise even more questions about what happened? No, Min-ah. We’ve talked this to death. This is the best way.”

“The easy way you mean.”

“The best way for you. Trust me, you don’t want questions about you the way there are already questions about me. I’m used to them, but you’re not and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“Don’t I have a say in this? This is my life too, you know?”

“Yes, and I want you to continue to have a life.”

“Why can’t you let me decide for once?”

Yunho’s smile is pained, but the very essence of his love and affection for the younger man still cuts through the pain. “You decide everything, Min. You decided what I had to be when you chose to stay with me.”

“And what is that?”

“Someone that cannot fail you. I can’t fail you, Changdol-ah.”

“You’ve already failed me.”

Yunho inhales sharply, the pain from those words causes him to pull the phone from his ear and kill the line before tossing the phone across the room.

He hears it bounce harmlessly off something soft, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud.

His breath is ragged in the darkness, the sound is so torn that he has to stuff his fist into his mouth to keep the pain at bay. 

That hurt.

That really fucking hurt.

He is still struggling to get past the lump in his throat and the tightness in his chest when his bedroom door swings open, the light from the hallway framing a familiar figure in the doorway.

Yunho shakes his head as the figure leans against the door jamb, crossing his long legs at the ankle. 

There are no discernible features that can be made out, the shadows are absolute and the light is not bright enough to give more than a rough outline of the person.

Despite that, Yunho knows exactly who it is.

“How did you get in?”

“The same way I always get in,” the man remarks drolly. “Through the door.”

“I changed the passcode.”

“I know.”

Silence stretches between the two men as Yunho sits up, gazing at the shadow.

“How many tries?”

“I got in on the second try after realizing your old code didn’t work.”

“Am I really that predictable? Do I have to worry about sasaengs breaking in too?”

“No one else would’ve guessed this passcode, hyung.”

“You did.”

“Because it was about us.”

“There is no us.”

“Then why are we your passcode?”

Changmin has him there.

Yunho changes the subject, deciding that passcodes are a dangerous topic. “You know where the bedsheets and blankets are. Go make the bed in the spare room.”

“You know that isn’t going to work.”

Yunho knows.

The only reason he was able to sleep tonight is because he’d literally bored himself to sleep.

There is a phonebook underneath the bed, and he’s still stuck at Lee. 

There are millions of Lees in Seoul.

At least it feels like millions.

He hasn’t been able to sleep properly in fifteen months.

Fifteen fucking long months of boring himself to sleep and he’s only at Lee.

Though this only happens in Seoul.

He sleeps like a baby in Japan and in every other country they visit.

There are times when he feels guilty about the company paying for two hotel rooms when one is never ever used. In fact, Changmin has lost the card to his room on more than one occasion due to not giving a damn about the piece of plastic given to them by a resigned manager who knows better but doesn’t say anything either.

Hotel cards lost in Beijing, Jakarta, LA and Kuala Lumpur to name a few.

Yunho is sure there’s been more. For someone as fastidious as Changmin, the sheer lack of care he shows towards the hotel cards speaks volumes. 

It is the maknae’s silent protest to show he only cares about one room, and the other might as well be the broom closet for all the fucks he gives it. 

Their manager had tried not giving Changmin his room key once, and the tall young man had smiled sweetly (which scared Yunho) and told the manager that he deserves the room.

That particular key had ended up in pieces instead of being lost.

“You can’t keep doing this. People are already noticing that you spend more time here than you do in your own home.”

“Apartment.”

“What?”

“It’s an apartment.”

“Yes, your home. Your apartment.”

“It’s not a home.”

“Changmin, it’s practically three in the morning. I’m not going to argue semantics with you.”

“You just don’t want to argue because you know you won’t win.”

There is the barest trace of amusement in the low voice, and Yunho latches onto it like a lifeline.

Amused Changmin at his expense is something he can deal with.

Upset Changmin is something he really cannot.

“Maybe I just give in to you.”

The younger man makes a rude sound as he pushes away from the door jamb, walking into the bedroom.

“Changmin…”

“Hyung…”

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Yunho makes a frustrated sound as he grabs a pillow and starts kneading it. “I know you can’t sleep. Go read the phonebook or something. I’m sure you’ll be asleep by the third page.”

“Is that what you do? Where are you up to now?”

“I do not,” Yunho mumbles, lying through his teeth.

“Liar.”

“This is not Japan, Changmin-ah.”

“Do you know you only use _Changmin-ah_ when you’re agitated with me?”

“Don’t I have the right to be agitated? I’m being mauled in my own home!”

Changmin does start laughing then.

A great burst of laughter the way only Changmin can, complete with hand clapping and feet stomping as he drops heavily at the foot of the bed, bending over and howling into the fluffy comforter.

Yunho crosses his arms huffily across his chest, his arm muscles bunching beautifully as he glares at the messy heap of male at the foot of his bed. 

Changmin’s laughter finally stutters to a halt, and as he looks up to see Yunho glaring balefully at him in the dim light, he wonders if the man remembers he’s topless.

“So who’s mauling you?”

“You are.”

“I’m sitting four feet from you, unless you consider this mauling,” Changmin pokes at Yunho’s blanketed feet, making the man squeak and fold his feet underneath him immediately.

“Changmin-ah…”

“Hyung…”

Yunho pulls his knees up, hugging them as he closes his eyes. “Don’t say it like that?”

“Like what?” Changmin’s voice is absolutely dripping in contrived innocence.

“Like that?”

“Hyung…”

“Stop it!”

“Hyung…”

“Damn it, Changmin! Everyone notices how you don’t use formalities with me anymore. If they hear you now, no explanation in the world is going to work with manager hyung.”

“Manager hyung isn’t here…” Changmin pauses, smirking in the darkness. “…hyung.”

Yunho drops his forehead, banging it against his knees and then yelping when his bruised cheekbone gets hit too.

There isn’t even time for him to draw in the next breath when the bedside lamp is turned on and concerned bambi eyes are staring at his face, fingers poking and prodding gently as his face is cupped between two clammy hands.

Eyes.

All he sees are those eyes that are always on him. He can feel Changmin making sure he’s ok, making sure he’s there, making sure that he isn’t going to disappear no matter where he is onstage.

Changmin can find him anywhere.

And the look in his eyes when their eyes meet across a crowded SM stage, or even when it’s just the two of them singing to each other onstage never ever fails to make Yunho feel warm. 

The tut tutting from Changmin’s lips as he fusses over a non-existent bruise, though there is a slightly red mark dies a swift death when their eyes meet.

“I can’t sleep.”

“You will.”

Two words holding a wealth of promises.

Yunho has never ever broken a promise to Changmin.


End file.
